


Right Hand Man

by Edoraslass



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Psychopaths In Love, sex and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edoraslass/pseuds/Edoraslass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur brings Eames a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Hand Man

**Author's Note:**

> A comment fic from a fluffmeme on cherrybina's LJ
> 
> I literally had no memory of writing this until I stumbled across replies to it in my email. Obviously my brain has a slightly warped definition of "fluff". 
> 
> Rating is for implication of past and future violence. And of course the cheery little psychos.
> 
> ~*~

“Eames.” Arthur’s whisper is hot in Eames’ ear. “Wake up.”

Eames mutters and pulls a pillow over his head. “Five more minutes.”

“It won’t keep,” Arthur persists, and that tone means there will be no more sleep until Eames opens his eyes but he stubbornly burrows deeper into the bedclothes anyway.

“Eames,” Arthur repeats, sing-songing, then he runs his tongue over the curve of Eames’ ear which is just dirty pool, really, and Eames shouldn’t reward bad behaviour but he’s fully awake now and it’s likely to lead to licking other places, so he might as well give in.

Arthur’s sitting on the edge of the bed, an almost bashful smile on his face, which okay, piques Eames’ curiosity. As do the vivid red spots on Arthur’s cuff which can’t be anything but blood.

“Arthur?” Eames shoots straight upright. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Arthur laughs, a bright, cheery, slightly unhinged sound. “Not me,” he answers, then leans down to pick up a box off the floor. “Look what I’ve brought you.”

There’s a towel wrapped around the box – presumably to soak up the blood leaking from it – and Eames leans forward to peer cautiously inside.

He sees the ostentatious ruby pinky ring, catches his breath. “Oh, Arthur, is that – “

Arthur beams proudly. “The right hand of your worst enemy.”

Eames pounces, knocking Arthur to the floor, sending the box and its gruesome contents skidding across the hardwood. “Oh darling,” he murmurs as Arthur squirms beneath him, “did you save me any?”

Arthur laughs again as he’s tugging down Eames’ boxers. “In the kitchen,” he replies, all dimples. “Tied up with a big red bow, waiting for you to finish the job.”

Eames arches into Arthur’s touch. “You do spoil me,” he gasps.

“Only the best for you,” Arthur breathes into Eames’ mouth, and they both ignore the muffled sobs echoing down the hallway. Just for now.


End file.
